


Final Has No Ending

by SpaceWives



Category: Resident Evil (Movieverse)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-20 15:06:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9497621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceWives/pseuds/SpaceWives
Summary: Claire's perspective during The Final Chapter.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers throughout, I do not recommend reading unless you've watched the movie. I changed a few things from canon. My first time posting for this fandom! No beta.

When she saw a familiar smirking face she dropped her gun without a second thought. God, that woman. A handful of weapons aimed at her and she smirks like it doesn’t even phase her. Then again it probably doesn’t, doesn’t faze any of them anymore. 

She wants her to ask the question again, _“do you even know who I am?_ , because of course she does. When she isn’t fighting till she’s weary to her bones, she’s been trying to get any information on Chris, K-Mart, and Alice. Despite the severity of the task at hand, her thoughts would always come back to Alice. After all, the woman was the first thing she had seen and had the capability to remember. It only makes sense she’d have imprinted herself into Claire’s mind. What had confused her for much longer then she’d readily admit was why the woman was all she thought about even after she’d regained her memories. Claire likes to think herself as a rational person and as such went about it as rationally as possible. Analyzing every moment she had spent with the other woman in excruciating detail seemed the very rational option. AIs everywhere would be proud. 

She had wanted her revolving thoughts to stem from uncomplicated admiration of Alice’s unyielding bravery and kindness that she showed throughout their acquaintance. Most notably crashing a plane onto a roof to help a group of strangers with no prior knowledge. Then again it may have been a stroke of insanity. Despite this, it had nothing to do with these things. Most assuredly these are some of Alice’s greatest qualities and indeed admirable, but not what caused her to burn through Claire’s mind worse than the desert ever could. It was the way their eyes would find each other in any room, how they would gravitate around one another, or how one touch or glance from Alice could cause Claire to calm. In moments like this, with Alice smirking, she also noted it was her sharp wit. A punchline after a kill when she got worked up. When the shackles Umbrella and the world had tied her down with eased just a bit and Alice let go, she was a fucking riot. Jokes and jibes that Claire learned to savor as she knew were only distributed to the few, and she was damn lucky. Of course if she were to be thinking rationally, she’d also have to note Alice’s legs were goddamn criminal. There were few things hotter than watching her take down a horde with as much effort as one uses to reload their gun, and the fight was usually done by the time the gun was loaded. She figured out pretty quick after that why the woman dominated her thoughts. 

The relief upon reuniting with Alice was short-lived, as it tends to be. Their lives have always been too hectic for anything other than a brief explanations and planning for whatever disaster lay ahead. It’s why they understood each other so well Claire liked to think. No time to talk and yet so much to say. Body language and eye contact can be one hell of a substitute even if she’d prefer the woman’s words more. Claire had to fight every muscle in her body not to bash Christian’s head in or at least clobber him a bit. It should be enough Alice is still alive and on their side when humans have become an endangered species, moreover it should have been resolved when she vouched for her. Yet the man had to keep pushing, wedging a thorn deeply into her side.

When Alice collapsed, panic seized Claire’s heart. She pulled herself together in order to help Doc with Alice. She couldn’t lose Alice, not after everything. Not with all the unspoken words the two share and a possible future on the horizon. As horrible as the thought was, she would lose anyone before her. When Alice came back to consciousness and told her of her plan, she immediately said they’d go together. She refused to be separated from her again. She noticed Alice’s raised eyebrow when Doc made a less than subtle come on, just as she also noticed the minute relaxation of her friend’s expression when she rebuffed the man once more. She shot the other woman a grin letting her know that she’d caught the movement and was met only with a stony expression and a twitch of lips.

As they prepared their base for the oncoming assault she appraised her friend. She found the woman wearier and harder than the last time they’d seen each other. By no means has Alice ever been soft, both her nature and the shit show of this world wouldn’t allow it. She will never know everything the woman has faced or even understand half of what she feels, but she knows enough. She knows that Alice carries the outbreak on her shoulder as if her actions could have prevented it, as if she didn’t try everything possible to prevent it. The woman has lost nearly everyone she has come to care about and isolated herself for years as a result. Claire knows this as all survivors do. This is a world of suffering, yet Claire is especially attuned to Alice’s. As she is attuned to all things Alice. She wants to ask where Alice had been after Arcadia, but the shadows that haunted her made her hesitate. Claire, in all her observations, forgot Alice is no fool. 

She has noticed Claire’s observations and changing expressions and asked her friend what was on her mind. A loaded question if you ask Claire, there were too many possible answers. Her growing affection and attraction towards her companion, the curiosity of where Alice has been, the gnawing need to inform the other woman she remembers everything before the beach, or the choking desire to hunt down whoever put those shadows on Alice? She is aware they’re about to be attacked by an army and then have to break into the hive and that her focus should be there, but after a few win-or-die situations it feels like habit. She went with a question that covered two of her current thought processes, which if answered well enough then she knew who to gut. 

As they readied the defenses Alice told her of the facility, the clones, everything. The softness in her voice when she mentioned Jill would have made her jealous had she been a lesser person. The only emotion she could bestir was an overwhelming sense of relief that one of Alice’s friends had lived. At least during her story, Claire doesn’t know about presently and she doesn’t ask. It’s when the girl Becky is mentioned that she sees it, the shadows that haunt Alice now. She knows without asking what happened to the kid. Claire tries finding a sensitive way to ask how, or who, before she gives up and just asks. Alice looks a bit stunned at her fumbling before her bluntness, but answers none the less. Just one word and no explanations, but it’s more than enough. It’s a name, and a name is just what she needed. _Wesker_. 

“I’m sorry Alice. I’m sure she was a great kid, she was an Abernathy after all.” Claire says with an unwavering tone backed with the tight comforting grip she had on the other woman’s forearm. If it were anyone else, Alice likely would have mistaken the comment for pitying and responded with coin shot to their knees. Claire hopes Alice understands her words for what they are, genuine rather than pitying. She knows Alice can’t let it set in, can’t focus on the fact she’d lost her kid and friends all over again, not with the slimming numbers on her wrist. Claire knows this yet refuses for it to pass as if they were discussing something inconsequential. Alice’s lips upturned into a broken smile that while conveyed her understanding was riddled with pain. A juxtaposition so painfully beautiful it hammered at something deep inside Claire. Claire wonders if Alice has even had time to comprehend she’d lost her kid to Umbrella, or if she’d been preoccupied with anything and everything else. Wesker was a dead man, if not by Alice then without hesitation by Claire.

The hive was a fucking mess. She wishes she could feel more moved by Christian’s death, but she wasn’t. Perhaps that’s what the apocalypse does to them all, makes them as hollow as the undead. This is disproved when she watches Abigail get shredded. Her heart pulls for the dead woman and for Alice who tried, always trying, yet failed to save her.

The Red Queen is apparently on their side although with restrictions. When Alice puts the earpiece in she knows it’s something important, but not something she expected her to tell her. However when Alice and Claire were a good distance away from everyone else she had leaned in and whispered what the AI had told her, there was a traitor. In a world where trusting was dying, Alice told her. Claire knew the women were friends and that they had trusted each other, but it was different experiencing it in the works. She should have expected it but was still surprised. She felt overcome by emotional and wanted to tug Alice into a kiss long enough for the rest of the world to fall into the background for a while. Something must have shown on her face because Alice’s eyebrow raised once more and her mouth quirked into an expression Claire had never seen before. She knew she wanted to explore that expression further if the other woman’s darkening eyes were anything to go by. Razor came shuffling past the pair breaking the spell the two had been in but not before Claire tossed an exaggerated wink towards Alice. 

A clone. She feels as if one of them or both of should have come up with the theory, yet they hadn’t as far as Claire knew. Would-have-beens and what-ifs had no place in this world, especially when Alice Abernethy was looking like that. She’d seen the woman hurt six ways to Sunday, but never this. The woman’s entire identity and self-view was shook to the core. She looked as if one of her final pieces were breaking off and shattering all the while Isaacs went on rubbing it in deeper. It was unfair and further drove Claire’s rage to new heights. If that wasn’t bad enough, Wesker had a gun on her preventing her from speaking. She couldn’t tell Alice how wrong everything Isaacs was saying is. She couldn’t tell her closest friend that she was the best person she knew, not best clone. Shit, she was the best clone too. She couldn’t tell her that her being a clone didn’t change the person she was or the things she’d done. She couldn’t tell her she wasn’t a frail imitation but rather better than any original. She was her Alice through and through. This however, was not an issue so easily rectified even if she could speak. Gentle tones and soothing words were a balm not a cure. Alice’s identity was worth more than that. If the powers that be allowed it, Claire would be there every moment as Alice tried to realign the image of herself, once more become more comfortable in her own skin. Though she knew she wasn’t the cure, she hopes she can be a balm.

She hasn’t known pain like this in a while now. She’s grown complacent. Lost her edge. Perhaps it’s just her inability to keep up with technologically enhanced geniuses and biologically engineered soldiers, but she has a lot of time to think on the floor. She has sure more than a few bones that are broken maybe even shattered. She resents the nausea, the thing keeping her pinned to the floor like a damsel in distress when she can hear Alice’s pained groans from over the desk. Alice lets out a scream that claws its way down Claire’s spine. The nausea that had been fading quickly rushed back when she tried to launch herself from the floor. She had to help Alice but her body wouldn’t let her.

Alice is in front of her scarce moments after Claire hears an explosion, antivirus in hand. Claire lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding causing a stabbing pain near her ribs. When she notices Alice’s hand and its severed fingers, it takes a few slow blinks to register. She locks eyes and asks if the other woman is okay, considering how raspy it comes out she guesses she doesn’t have much a leg to stand on. Alice rolls her eyes but Claire can see the worry, she knows she isn’t looking the best so she searches for a way to reassure Alice. “That’s homophobic ya know.” Claire says nodding her head towards Alice’s fingers, earning a confused expression until it dawns on the woman. It earns Claire an exasperated but much less worried Alice. She wants to stay in this moment with the light teasing and fond smiles, but once again the ever shrinking numbers intervene. No rest for the weary. She forces herself to her feet despite the unbearable pain and when she doesn’t immediately black out she locks eyes with Alice. Once the nausea fades enough they begin their escape and on the way out of the hive she grabs a gun to be safe. When they break the surface Claire feels like only a thread is holding her to consciousness. Luckily, it’s an Alice shaped thread so she doesn’t have to worry about it slipping away. That is excluding the ominous green tube that will very possibly kill Alice along with everything else infected with T-virus.

It happens quick. Suddenly there are two Isaacs and one magazine, luckily only one seems to be superpowered. She fires upon the original Isaacs emptying nearly the entire magazine before turning toward the other Isaacs and firing the rest into him, the undead catch him as he falls. No guns, a horde of undead, and moments left on the clock. Alice hesitates and Claire thanks every deity there is for that while cursing them all at the same time. She is glad Alice hesitates because she does as well. In this moment, faced with the reality of Alice dying, she hesitates. A part of her would rather the vial survive and they go to some Umbrella bunker, somewhere Alice will be safe. The moment of hesitation is over, because despite secret desires, neither is willing to let one more person die for them let alone the entire human race.

When the antivirus drops so does Claire’s stomach. She is about to lose her best friend. She’s about to lose an integral part of her. Moreover, Alice is about to lose everything. She doesn’t know if now that the clock isn’t ticking and the undead are dead, if she can finally explain it to Alice. If she should. She wants to explain everything and as she meets Alice’s searching scared gaze she realizes she has to say something, while she still can. “I remember” _everything._ And she does. From lingering touches and longing looks to their deep understanding of one another. The comfort each brings the other and unsaid words. From sand covered appraisals to desperate embraces. Alice’s gaze hardens with resolve as her face softens at her words. Alice grabs Claire’s shirt and pulls her in for a searing kiss. Claire can’t help as she begins to fall to the ground, her wounds barely sustainable without Alice stealing her breath away. Alice eases her descent taking care of avoiding her ribs, only breaking their kiss to further kiss along Claire’s jawline and neck. Alice rests her head against Claire’s shoulder as she regains her breath only to go limp a few short moments after. Claire feels her entire body freeze over. She can’t breathe but she can, and Alice can’t. The unfairness of the situation rips Claire apart. How could Alice survive so much for ten years only to have to sacrifice herself?

She presses her lips to Alice’s hair and holds herself there trying to stop the shaking. After a few moments she brings Alice off of her and gently lays her on the ground beside her as the pain in her ribs grows by tenfold. She lays on her back staring into the sky as her gaze dulls. She knows she still needs to find Chris and K-Mart or at least discover their fate, but she can’t see the path anymore. Her wounds also require attention and quite soon, but she disregards them for the moment. She slowly brings herself back up onto her elbows and peers over Alice’s still form. She pushes stray hairs back from Alice’s face and cups the other woman’s cheeks for a goodbye that would never be enough. Her fingers drag down Alice’s throat when she feels it, a faint fluttering. A pulse. Claire starts laughing with near hysterics as her chest overflows with relief and amusement, this damned woman. 

Later, when they’re holed up in a rundown motel and after they find Chris and K-Mart, Alice tells her of her childhood. As Alice plays with her hand recalling memories untouched by death and sand, Claire finds herself lost in the moment of happiness. The world would take centuries, maybe even longer, to heal. Alice and Claire both carried the scars of this world and would carry them for the rest of their lives. Regardless, they had this. They had each other. Well…and an army of undead still out there, at least they wouldn’t be bored.


End file.
